


Caving In

by Lokei



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Banter, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reveal, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 20:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokei/pseuds/Lokei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack’s gut didn’t like this mission, so Daniel didn’t either.  Plus there were caves involved.  Mines, actually, and more often than not, mines were more trouble than they were worth.  Especially when the Tok’ra were also involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caving In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magickmoons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magickmoons/gifts).



> For the 2012 Jack/Daniel Ficathon  
> Prompt: Requirements: Hurt/Comfort, offworld, Request: unintentional secret revealed
> 
> Assumes knowledge of events up through mid-season 5 (after “48 Hours” but before “Meridian”)

Daniel coughed again and Jack winced, forcing his arms to drag the archaeologist in tighter against his chest to try to reduce what had to be pretty painful muscle spasms by now.

“Easy, Daniel,” he murmured into the other man’s dusty hair. “Don’t go dying on me now.”

There was a chuckle buried in Daniel’s next round of coughing and the hand putting pressure on Jack’s bloody thigh tightened.

“Think I should be saying that to you.”

Jack shook his head. “There are a lot of things we should be saying, under the circumstances.”

Daniel took a careful, shallow couple of breaths, then finally—“I dare you to go first.”

Jack couldn’t help but smile against Daniel’s skull. Aggravating to the last, that was his Daniel. “Dare you to top this, then: I love you.”

\+ + + + + + +  
 _Several Days Earlier_

Jack looked over his shoulder through the glass at where Daniel, Carter, and Teal’c were clustered around good ol’ General-Jacob-slash-Selmak, smiling and generally discussing something that could not possibly be about the mission, given the itch between Jack’s own shoulder blades.

“General, can I express my concern? Again? Possibly with illustrations this time?”

Hammond regarded Jack with weary amusement. “Not necessary, Jack. I share your concerns, and that’s why I’ve insisted that SG-1 have back up for this mission.”

“It’s just something about the idea of Teal’c and Carter stuck behind some Goa’uld sensing energy barrier and Daniel and I a sizeable hike away having to pretend we’re speaking for the Tok’ra like we’re all one big happy family—wait, what?”

Hammond sighed. “Sit down, Colonel. I agree with you that there are valid reasons to be cautious during these negotiations with the Hallani. The Tok’ra are convinced that they are trustworthy, and that sensing equipment that regulates those shields is a powerful argument for making allies with them. The powers that be are very interested in this mission succeeding, so they’ve agreed with my request for a larger mission. SG-3 and Major Davis will be joining you.”

“That’s a lot of extra people to get to the ‘Gate if something goes south,” Jack shifted in his chair. “But they might equally be a deterrent to things going south, so I’ll take them. I know the Hallani want clear skies for these negotiations, but I wouldn’t say no to a Tok’ra ship in a nearby system, either.”

Hammond nodded. “We’re all hoping for the best. I’ll talk to Jacob about back-up from the Tok’ra side, and when Major Davis gets here tomorrow, you, Doctor Jackson, and Selmak need to sit down with him and work out a reasonable strategy.”

“Which Daniel will then adapt on the fly, yes sir,” Jack gave a wry grin. “Thank you, sir.”

\+ + + + + + + +

Paul looked at Daniel, who gave the barest perceptible shrug.

“So, to make sure I understand this correctly, the Tok’ra are pursuing an alliance, or at least a trade of technology and information, with the inhabitants of P83-F59, but they can’t actually be part of the negotiations because the Hallani Stargate is inside a building surrounded by shields which only repel those with Goa’uld symbiotes or symbiote blood-markers. The Hallani could just come inside the building to negotiate with the Tok’ra in person, but they won’t?”

Selmak sighed. “The Hallani are justifiably wary of any symbiotic pair given their history, and have stated that they only way they will believe that the Tok’ra are different from the Goa’uld is to show them our ability to work peacefully with those who are not blended. SG-1, with a Jaffa teammember and one who has been host to a Tok’ra, is our best option to speak for us at these negotiations.”

“Even though they won’t be able to be in the room any more than you will.” Davis pointed out.

“This is true. The three of us will take part in the discussion remotely, from behind the shields, while you, Colonel O’Neill, and Doctor Jackson will represent us to the council at their capital building.”

“Which is several miles away,” Jack interjected, “which is why we will also be taking SG-3, so that we’ll have enough bodies at each point when things go sour.”

Jacob’s eyes shone with purely human humor. “I think you mean ‘if,’ Jack.”

Jack shook his head. “No, I definitely mean ‘when.’ And not just because we’re working with you guys again, even though things have a tendency to go sideways when the Tok’ra are involved.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Your gut?” He got a nod in return from Jack and noticed the quizzical look on Paul’s face smooth out right after. Everyone who had the slightest idea what went on under Cheyenne Mountain had a deep respect for Jack’s gut. Daniel appreciated Jack’s gut slightly less than he appreciated a long list of other things about Jack, including his integrity, his humor, and his ass, but he and Paul were not in Russia, there was no vodka involved, and they would not be comparing lists. 

(…Again.)

 

(…Though Paul’s had been both entertaining and enlightening. To say the least.)

Daniel brought his attention back to the discussion in time to hear Jack and Jacob wrap it up with an overview of what the Tok’ra and the SGC wanted to get out of the mission tomorrow—the usual, really, hadn’t they been doing this long enough? And how they were going about it—guarded honesty, mutual compliments, a list of their top-ten Goa’uld take-downs—the usual again. Daniel quirked his lips at Paul and went back to his mental list. Paul was along for the plan. Daniel was going to be there for when the plan didn’t work and they had to come up with something else. Jack wasn’t the only one with a gut that said it would be that kind of encounter.

\+ + + + + + + +

It was a weird sort of waiting, Daniel decided. Weirdly pervasive, weirdly comfortable, weirdly prone to provoking nervous fits of laughter. Daniel did fine with lots of kinds of waiting, including the ‘we will make you feel our importance by being late to this meeting’ diplomatic dance that the Hallani seemed to be employing at the moment. But waiting for Jack’s gut to be verified, as they were also doing, was not going to make Daniel’s top ten list.

“I know you weren’t happy when the Hallani made us leave SG-3 with Major Carter and Teal’c at the gate, but am I missing something else?” Paul leaned over, and Jack’s scowl got even grumpier as he looked pointedly at the lockers where they had been politely requested to stash their gear when they arrived, hours ago.

Daniel shrugged. “Jack’s not big on waiting. And his snacks are in there. If we knew their deliberations were going to take this long, we’d have broken out the emergency peanuts earlier.”

“I’m sure the Minister and the rest of the council will be here any minute to reopen the discussion,” Paul offered with a reasonable return shrug. “After all, things have been going smoothly so far.”

Jack was actually grinding his teeth now, and Daniel had to stifle a snort. 

“Now you’ve done it, Major,” Sam’s voice came over the speaker-phone type thing on the table in front of them. 

“I’m sorry?”

“She means, this is the point where we get impolitely shown the door, or detained, or given inconvenient truth-telling drugs,” Jack grumbled.

“Or mind-wiped,” Sam’s voice contributed.

“Or sold into slavery,” Daniel countered.

“On the contrary, I believe we are to be subject to a Goa’uld attack,” Teal’c offered over the speaker.

“Oh man, T, why’d you have to say **that?** ” Jack complained.

“Because there is a ha’tak appearing on the sensor array in this station,” the Jaffa answered.

There was a long moment of silence where Daniel, Paul, and Jack stared at each other.

And then the sirens started.

“Well, damn,” Paul said feelingly. “Now what?”

Daniel stood and grabbed the pack that Jack had just liberated from their locker. “Now, we run.”

“Sir, there appear to be troops landing between your position and the gate,” Sam cut in.

“And shortly the ship will be in position to begin aerial bombardment of the surrounding area,” Teal’c added. 

“Of course they will,” Jack groaned. “It’s going to be that kind of day. Daniel, any sign of our hosts?”

Daniel poked his head into the hallway. “A lot of people following what looks like evacuation lights, but no sign of Ragara or Ellane. Or anyone else I recognize.”

“All right. Carter, Teal’c, switch to radios, we’re about to be moving. We know the Jaffa can’t get in at you, but any idea how long that shield’s gonna hold up to aerial assault?”

“The structural integrity is unlikely to withstand a concerted or lengthy barrage, O’Neill.”

Daniel looked up from where he was fixing his straps and re-seating his gun. “Shouldn’t they be getting out of there?”

Jack’s face twisted. “Hold it there until it looks like they’re moving on your position. We need your eyes if we’re gonna make it back to you. But if that ship opens fire, you get **all** of you back to the SGC, and contact the Tok’ra, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Daniel didn’t much believe that acknowledgement, and from the looks of it, neither did Jack. But neither of them were going to fuss about it either. At least not now.

“So, follow the pretty lights and sirens?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Evacuation routes will be crowded and full of potential collateral damage, sir,” Paul looked a little ill at the thought.

“Point taken, Major. Let’s see if we can’t slip the net some other way, hey? Aim for the forest on the eastern edge of town, work our way around to the gate building cross-country instead of over the road.”

They relayed their plans to everyone waiting at the gate and sidled out of the conference room in a strange rotating dance. Jack didn’t seem happy with Paul on point, Paul wasn’t happy when Daniel was on point, and Daniel had a lot more recent field experience than Paul did, civilian status be damned, so he watched the whole awkward pride-and-protocol shuffle with bucketloads of internal amusement. Several blocks away from the capital building they had settled into a more or less stable triangle formation, with Daniel on Jack’s right and Paul on his left, when the barrage started and something large and full of things that explode was hit a block or two away from them.

Jack’s hands were steady on him as they helped him off the sidewalk.

“Power station?” Daniel asked shakily.

“Likely.” Jack’s voice sounded muffled, but it said something about the way Daniel’s life was these days that he knew it was the after-effects of the noise from the explosion and not indicative of any injury on Jack’s part.

“Moving on, then?” 

And Jack gave him a dry grin and they were moving again, stringing out into a line with Daniel in the middle and Paul bringing up the rear, detouring as necessary as the barrage continued and they occasionally found their way out of town blocked by sudden new craters and piles of debris.

“You’d think a society with Goa’uld sensing shields would have invested in, I don’t know, anti-aircraft technology?” Daniel grumbled breathlessly after their third detour.

“Maybe they’ve only ever been contacted or attacked through the gate?” Paul offered.

“You’re still expecting sense out of the civilizations we meet? After how many years?” Jack added, and Daniel shook his head ruefully. 

Which would be right about when they got spotted by the patrolling Jaffa. It was just that kind of mission.

Daniel got enough of a glance, as they started running again, to pick out the insignia—looked like Zipacna, again, wasn’t he last week’s problem?—and he shouted that info into the radio in case Sam, Teal’c, and Jacob hadn’t figured it out yet.

The news they got back again was less than positive. “I think they know we’re here,” Sam reported. “There’s been no attack from above, yet, but the scanners in the building show a lot of hostile dots moving in our general direction. And a lot are moving your way too. You may be able to lose them in the forest.”

“We’ll lose them.” Jack was using his grim-but-determined voice as they ducked around the corner and watched the Jaffa run past their position. “Any intel you can share about terrain that would be helpful? Convenient canyons, flora, and tunnel systems were not included in the Tok’ra briefing pamphlet. Jacob, consider this me lodging my complaints.”

“Understood, Colonel. I’ll add it to the list.”

“We’ll get back to you, sir,” Sam added. “Meanwhile, I suggest going slightly north, if you can. Fewer ‘friends’ that way.”

“Acknowledged.”

They altered course and within fewer minutes than Daniel expected, they were within eyeshot of the treeline.

“Jack, shouldn’t we be doing something to help the Hallani?” Daniel felt compelled to ask, even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

Which was right about when they ran smack-dab back into the Jaffa patrol, there was a whole lot of shooting on both sides, and Jack got hit fairly high in the leg. One of these days Daniel was going to learn to keep his mouth shut. 

It said something about the way he and Jack knew each other that Jack picked the conversation up again while he was busy bleeding all over Daniel’s side as they hobbled into the woods, five Jaffa corpses behind them.

“First priority is getting ourselves out, then assessing the situation. We don’t know that this attack has anything to do with us being here—if it does, we’ll see what we can do. If it’s just crap timing, we don’t have the firepower here to do much about it.”

“O’Neill.” Teal’c’s voice over the radio was a welcome one. “There are a number of patrols converging on your position. We have located a set of caves northeast of your current location. We suggest you utilize them until the patrols have moved on.”

“How far, Teal’c?” Daniel frowned. Northeast was not really the way they needed to go to get back to the gate, and more distance meant more blood loss for Jack. Still, Teal’c’s answer was reassuring and so caves it was, though progress was considerably slower than before, and they evaded two more patrols before they reached what actually looked like a set of abandoned mines instead of caves.

“Cosy,” Paul muttered, and Daniel mustered up a grin that forced back memories of other mines and subterranean spaces that had been less than kind to them in missions past.

“It’ll do,” Jack bit out. Daniel caught his gaze and saw some of those same memories flickering through Jack’s eyes as well. 

“Sam just had to mention mind-wiping, didn’t she?” Daniel murmured, too low for Paul to hear, and Jack chuckled as they made their way into the dark.

“Every square on the alien encounter bingo card.”

“We should get a prize.” 

“Pie. I vote for pie.”

“Predictable.”

“I plead blood loss.”

“Yeah. Let’s find a not-entirely gross corner and do something about that.” Daniel looked ahead to where Paul’s light bobbed. “Major?”  
“Over here. Defensible and not a straight shot from the entrance,” the other called back. “Plus there’s some padding in the form of this moss-type stuff,” he added as Daniel and Jack rounded the corner, and Daniel pulled up in distress.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea—“ Daniel began.

At which point, the aerial bombardment that they had all just about managed to forget about hit something very close to over their heads, and the mineshaft collapsed behind them.

“Daniel,” Jack said wearily from leaning above him, as the dust settled. “Remind me never to okay working a treaty with the Tok’ra. Ever again.”

Daniel laughed until he started coughing. “Sure thing, Jack.” He pushed himself up off the ground and against the wall, trying not to get his hands anywhere near his face. “Major Davis? Are you all right?”

There was no answer. “Jack? Do you have a light?”

The light on Jack’s gun clicked on in answer, and Daniel brushed his hands on his pants and crawled over to check on the still, dust-covered form a few feet away. 

“Alive. Looks like he got a good crack to the head, though.” Daniel turned his head into his shoulder and coughed again.

Jack leaned back against the wall. “Daniel?”

“Think whatever the spores in this moss are might be a little much for my SGC-enhanced Claritin,” Daniel rasped. “Hit me if I start turning Neanderthal.”

Jack chuckled. “Can we possibly hit mutant devolving fungus more than once?” He winced and readjusted his stance against the wall. “Think that might be cheating at the bingo thing.”

Daniel wheezed a little and laughed again as he shifted Paul a little to make sure he could breathe easily, head out of the pile of moss nearest it. “Can’t have that. So do we have contact with Sam and Teal’c still?” 

Jack reached up and clicked his radio. “Carter? Teal’c? Respond.”

Static.

Daniel sighed and made his way back over to Jack. “They know where we are. They’ll contact the Tok’ra and figure out an extraction once the invasion force gets what they’ve come for and leaves. Or whatever.”

“Or we’ll dig our way out.” Jack flashed the light around the side tunnel. “Doesn’t look like Davis found much more than a closet for us to hide in, here, no alternate exit but the way we came in.”

Daniel really wanted to make an eyebrow at the unintentional innuendo, especially given what he found out in Russia, but he was above that sort of thing. He coughed instead.  
“Jeez, Daniel, get over here. You’re going to pull a muscle.” Jack opened his arms and beckoned. Daniel was above closet jokes, but apparently he was not inhuman. He went. And found himself with a handful of bloody thigh.

“Shouldn’t we be doing something about that?” 

Daniel felt Jack’s frown against his cheek. “Was hoping the bleeding would have slowed by now. Don’t really want to bind any of this goop into it, though.”

Daniel pulled at the pack he’d ditched and yanked out his water bottle, pouring some of it over his hands and splashing some on Jack’s thigh. He grabbed a spare t-shirt next and wrapped it inelegantly around Jack’s leg.

“Probably would have worked better to take my pants off, but it’ll do,” Jack said into Daniel’s hair as the archaeologist leaned back into his grip, trying to avoid breathing in the dust clouds that all his moving around had raised. It was starting to hurt, like the familiar beginnings of the pneumonia he’d given himself in grad school when he stayed awake 52 hours straight writing up field notes and new theories.

“Can think of better reasons for that,” Daniel muttered. Jack went still behind him.

Hmm. Come to think of it, he’d said a lot of things he hadn’t intended when he’d been awake 52 hours, too.

“Well, so can I, but none of them involve an unconscious third party,” Jack said easily, with a head jerk at Davis on the floor.

Daniel gave a terrible cough-hiccup. “Don’t make me laugh, you jerk.” He leaned harder on Jack’s thigh where the blood was seeping through the makeshift bandage.

“Sorry,” Jack clicked his radio again with his free hand, but there was still nothing. “Rest for a bit, then we’ll take a look at the passageway and see if we can shift any of it without bringing the rest of the ceiling down on our heads. Try not to breathe too deep.”

“On it,” Daniel sighed, and let his head drop back against Jack’s shoulder. Apparently they were not talking about what Daniel had just said. Just as well.

An hour passed, at least, and when Daniel had gained enough clear air as the spores settled, he shifted up to get a look at the rocks as Jack shone the flashlight from where he sat. But a shifted rock or two led to a worrisome slide that kicked up more dust and charming alien allergens, and even Jack fell prey to a fit of sneezing that seized his entire body before Daniel dropped back down in front of him and braced him back against the wall with his weight.

Davis stirred, but didn’t wake, and Daniel wished desperately for a stronger radio, a better hiding place, a little more air.

And so it continued, with the coughing, and the bleeding, and the really terrible but valiant banter, until Daniel dared Jack to say what was on his mind, and Jack said—

\+ + + + + + + +

“I love you.” The words hung in the air with the spores and the dust of whatever godforsaken mineral had been mined here once upon a when, and Jack could wish them taken back, but didn’t, really. Though he’d be happier if Daniel hadn’t gone and gotten all shivery in his grip.

“Daniel?” He groped for the canteen in the dark, as they’d been trying to save the flashlight as much as possible. “What do you need? Water? Emergency peanuts?”

Daniel had abandoned laughter for snorting, apparently, as it didn’t seem to set off the same paroxysms of coughing. 

“Totally stolen my thunder. How am I supposed to top a declaration like that when it’s immediately followed by peanuts?”

Jack relaxed a little and smacked the canteen against Daniel’s stomach. “I don’t think you can.”

“Do I get more than one attempt, like in pole vaulting?”

“Pole vaulting?” So, delirium was a distinct possibility after all. Jack had been hoping not, but Daniel had never struck him as the track and field sort.

“Never mind. Jack.” Daniel took a few tiny sips of air. “Three things.” He paused. “One. I still have the tissue box. It was still sitting forgotten in a corner of the gateroom three days after you brought me back from Abydos, and I took it. It’s tucked behind the books on the second shelf near the door to my office.”

He breathed again, sipped some water, and reoriented himself to re-lean his weight against Jack’s thigh. “Two. When you and Teal’c were in that booby trapped ship, headed out of the solar system.” He paused and Jack squeezed around his waist a little to make sure he was all right. “I swore. At several of our allies and a number of high-ranking members of the military. In I think eight different languages, mostly not of Earth origin.”

Daniel tipped his head back against Jack one more time and caught his breath for what Jack assumed was the third attempt. “Three. When you and Hammond played out the sting on the NID. And didn’t tell us. I didn’t—“ Daniel waited for the coughing to subside and finished slowly, “I didn’t believe anything you said at your house. And we didn’t draw straws.”

Jack was quiet for a long time, until he said softly. “You know, given how much trouble you’re having with the talking, ‘I love you too’ would have been a lot shorter and easier to say.”

There was a smile in Daniel’s voice and his fingers twined through Jack’s. “Not my style.”

There was a dry voice from the corner. “Please say it’s your style to be rescued right around now?”

Jack started and would have tensed were it not for the shaking of near-silent giggles coming from Daniel. 

“Davis. Welcome back to the land of the living,” Jack said instead, trying to rein in his paranoia.

“Welcome me back later once I’ve had a bottle of aspirin for the concussion and have turned in my report that says I remember nothing about the mission since the alarms sounded due to excessive head trauma,” Davis replied. “Even more effective than vodka.”

Daniel started shaking again and Jack opened his mouth to request clarification or express some kind of sideways gratitude.

Which was when there was a quiet rumble and the wall disappeared from behind Jack’s back, and he looked up from his sprawl on the floor to find he was at the business end of a Tok’ra tunnel, with Carter, Jacob, and half of SG-3 grinning down at him. 

It really was just that kind of mission.

\+ + + + + + + 

Three days later, a package arrived at Paul Davis’s apartment a few blocks off Dupont Circle. Inside, it had a bottle of vodka, a hard hat, and a jar of peanuts. Paul sat on his couch and laughed until his head hurt all over again.


End file.
